


And I Feel It (deep in my bones)

by Hyeyu



Series: (not quite) bedtime stories [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Fairy Tale Elements, Historical Fantasy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pinocchio elements, Romance, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 09:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12454383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyeyu/pseuds/Hyeyu
Summary: Impatiently, the dragon reins in the gale, sending it spinning along the length of his torso as he eyes the stranger, who had unceremoniously tumbled forward with a yell. Then he speaks, taking care to stay out of sight.“You.”His voice washes over the entirety of the mountain, the distant rumble of thunder in the single word. Predictably, the figure startles, rain flicking off the tips of damp hair and limbs in a wide arc as he swivels around. He is tiny, the dragon notes with some surprise. The height of a child.Then the trespasser opens his mouth. “Are you the wishing god?”Hinata interrupts the comfortable solitude of Kageyama's existence when he inexplicably turns up on the dragon's mountain with an impossible wish. Yet, somehow, it proves impossible for Kageyama to ignore the golem, even as dire circumstances loom on the horizon.





	And I Feel It (deep in my bones)

**Author's Note:**

> I usually do this at the end, but let me do this at the start this time: mad, mad kudos go to my beta, [Summer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mangothief/pseuds/mangothief), who had to put up with me through this entire writing process and did a brilliant job in keeping my writing confidence up and running! Seriously, this may be the cleanest fic I've ever submitted on AO3. Gotta give [Enzen](http://wataksampingan.tumblr.com) her customary due as well. 
> 
> I've been meaning to write this prequel for a while now, and also wanted to try participating in a BB challenge, so this basically killed two birds with one stone. It's run away a little from my initial outline, but I think it's the better for it, to be honest.
> 
> Title is from 'No Promises' by Cheat Codes (ft. Demi Lovato).
> 
> update: The amazing cover art for this (done by Nat) can be found [here](http://tia995.tumblr.com/post/168108281391/its-finally-here-my-art-for-hqbb-s-haikyuu)!

 

滝下に

変夢換いる

龍にがっつく

神ねむけ

山のおくにも

 

_Taki shita ni_

_yume henkan iru_

_ryuu ni gattsuku ga_

_Kami nemuke_

_Yama no oku ni mo_

 

\---

“Daichi, Daichi _, oh god-_ ”

“Someone get Sawamura, quick!”

“I said this would happen.”

“Shut up, Tsu - STOP IT SUGAWARA-SAN, you’re hurting yourself-”

A wail, piercing through the other voices, high and anguished. “He’s gone, Daichi! He’s **_gone_ **!”

\---

_The days were still on the cusp of autumn just stepping out of summer, that odd transition when the trees were not quite sparse, and the crumpling of edges along the sides of leaves were unsightly rather than beautiful._

_But the river was still untouched, quiet and calm as ever, save for the brief breaks in the peace when toes listlessly sent sprays of water scattering to the far end of the riverbank. The sunset, low as it was, obligingly cast two shadows across the grass, seated next to each other._

_“Hey._ _Jūbei.”_

_A long-suffering sigh joined the breeze tickling the nape of two necks, jinbei collars tugged low. “For the last time, Tobio-kun, I’m not calling you ‘Tobio-dono’.”_

_Another energetic splash of water accompanied an annoyed huff. “You call Oda ‘Oda-dono’.”_

_“He’s the Daimyō_ _; it would be rude not to address him as such.”_

_“I am-”_

_“I know, I know, you’re an age-old powerful amaryou. But you act so much like a human child, it’s hard to remember that sometimes.”_

_Leaves rustled, and the smaller of the two shadows stretched into something long, longer, sinuous as it looped in on itself. When the voice spoke again, it was deeper, heavy with power, but no less petulant. “I am not a human child, you idiot. You should respect me properly -_ _I_ **_can_ ** _do more than create rain, you know.”_

_“So you’ve reminded me from time to time. And yet you still haven’t elaborated on exactly what else you can do aside from ‘creating rain’.” Jūbei chuckled at the annoyed rumble of thunder that echoed through the cloudless sky._

_“Ask nicely - maybe I’ll tell you.”_

_“Fair enough. What_ **_can_ ** _you do, Tobio-kun?”_

\---

The dragon doesn’t pay too much attention when the first lines of magic laid around the base of the mountain are shattered, light bells tinkling in the wind as it bears them back to settle beneath his scales, stained with the foreign touch of a trespasser. It might be a careless footstep or an intentional declaration of a hike - which, the dragon can’t be sure. But this he knows full well: despite human scepticism and forgetfulness that strengthen with the turn of the years, there is always the stray believer, the zealot, those desperate enough to risk believing in the tales spun in the old poems and songs.

Still, it is but a nuisance in an otherwise unremarkable day. Humans get bored so easily, and the dragon resettles, curling into loose coils under the sun.

The breaking of the second lines though, very much further up the mountain - that makes him straighten all the way up on the rock he’s reclining on, gleaming eyes narrowed. Rare is the individual who considers the slippery cliffs and the jagged inclines worth the climb. It’s far from his abode, and nowhere close to the peak, but he knows full well the consequences of lapsing into carelessness. It’s near impossible for a person to make it past the second lines. At least, it should be.

The air shivers, pulls together until it solidifies into a cloud, into a storm, into a hurricane howling and horrible within its carefully controlled confines. Then, it slips free of long claws, ripping up the ground as it rushes eagerly towards the small presence.

It should be more than enough to deal with the unwanted intruder. And yet, the dragon’s head stays up, waiting.

By the time the third lines break, pulsing back to him in wisps of petrichor, he is already moving, sinuous body untwisting to stretch into a shimmer of silver as he flies towards the location of the intruder.

It doesn’t take too long to reach where the stranger is - he is alarmingly close, a spot of bright orange amidst the dull grey and whites of the mountain path he is steadily climbing. Drenched as it was, it would still be hard to miss the slight figure - even without the fiery hair plastered to the side of his face in hanks, the clashing combination of a pastel green t-shirt and pink shorts is striking. Combined with the mismatched socks, it’s almost as if the trespasser is taking special pains to announce his presence to anyone within visible range.

Eyesore or not, however, he shouldn’t still be here. Everyone who’s encountered the sudden tempest sent their way has had the decency to flee back down the mountain, terrified. Yet even as he watches, the boy continues his steady ascent, seemingly unbothered by the rain and wind shoving at his arms and legs.

Impatiently, the dragon reins in the gale, sending it spinning along the length of his torso as he eyes the stranger, who had unceremoniously tumbled forward with a yell. Then he speaks, taking care to stay out of sight.

_“You.”_

His voice washes over the entirety of the mountain, the distant rumble of thunder in the single word. Predictably, the figure startles, rain flicking off the tips of damp hair and limbs in a wide arc as he swivels around. He _is_ tiny, the dragon notes with some surprise. The height of a child.

Then the trespasser opens his mouth. “Are you the wishing god?”

Abruptly, all of the irritation returns. “How did you get here?” The demand is strident, weighted with derision. “Who told you of this place? Why haven’t you turned back yet?”

“Why…what?” The boy blinks, arms relaxed by his side. He’s not afraid, the dragon realizes with a start from where he was amongst the trees.

“Why are you still _here_?”

“Eh, should I not be?” The figure pushes a hand through his hair, slicking it backwards to reveal large golden eyes. They gleam a little too brightly, and the dragon squashes down the sense of unease that steals over him. “There wasn’t a sign or anything that says people couldn’t climb this mountain. Not that I checked, I guess, but -”

“What about the hurricane?”

The stranger blinks, nonplussed. “What about the what?”

“The hurricane! The-” For the lack of a better description, the dragon yanks the spiralling storm off himself, hurling it at the small figure. The maelstrom shrieks as it barrels directly into the boy, forceful enough to lift him off his feet and hurl him into a nearby tree before it dissipates into calm air once more.

But instead of gibbering with fear or terror, the grin on the boy’s face is so wide, it stretches almost from ear to ear as he tumbles out of the tree in a flurry of wet fabric and damp limbs.

“Whoa, _that’s_ a hurricane? That’s super-cool!”

The dragon stares, speechless in a way he hasn’t been in years. “It’s…it’s not super-cool, you idiot! It’s supposed to chase all human intruders out!”

At that, the boy’s shoulders hunch slightly, but he keeps his face angled upwards towards the sky. From where he stands, it’s easy to see his smile lose its mirth. “Guess they don’t work too well on non-humans, huh?”

Non-human? The dragon turns the idea over in his mind briefly, then dismisses it. “Whatever, I don’t care. Go away.”

“Not until I meet the wishing god.” The boy crosses his arms, ridiculous in his dripping determination.

“There is no wishing god. Go away.”

The boy actually stamps his foot. “Not until - Oh, I get it! This is one of those are-you-worthy challenges, right? Like a test!”

The mountain shivers, stones clattering in tandem with the warning rumble of thunder. “It’s not a ward! I will not say it again - _leave._ ”

“You can’t make me.”

The tail lashes in agitation. “I’ll kill you.”

“You can’t.” Confidence lined the boy’s words. “So there.”

It takes barely a thought to transmute his irritation into a crack of lightning that whips through the air, slicing across the soft flesh of the intruder’s right cheek. But the boy doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as he cocks his head to the side.

“You missed.” Matter of fact.

An angry hiss, and the lighting strikes again, bright and deadly, this time piercing the very heart of the insolent intruder. But the boy doesn’t keel over, doesn’t even have the decency to twitch in agony. Instead, he jerks, hands flying to his chest and patting it.

“Gwah, that tickles!”

It doesn’t matter how many times the dragon tries - and, oh, he _tries_ , because perhaps the first time had been a fluke, and the second, luck - beneath the human-looking exterior lies nothing human enough for him to electrocute. He huffs, frustration spiking ever higher.

“How.” A fruitless magical blast. “Are you.” Another attempt. “Not _dead_?”

The boy wrinkled his nose. “Oh, are you trying to _kill_ me? That’s not very nice!”

Growling, the dragon fires off one final magical shot in vain before shooting up to the sky in a stream of scales and claws, no longer concerned with concealing himself. He makes a loop through the clouds, considers swallowing the boy whole-

But it’s not really a boy, is it?

Huffing, the dragon twists around, heading back to the peak of the mountain. Best not to risk indigestion by accidentally devouring something that might not be able to die.

It would be wiser to observe the creature first. Besides, if he couldn’t kill it, whatever it is, he could very well ignore it until it gives up.

Leave a problem, and it should go away on its own. It’s his favorite solution, and has yet to fail him over the long years.

\---

_“Hiding away from the world doesn’t solve all problems, you know.”_

_A petulant snort caused the dry leaves nearby to float off the ground briefly. “What would you know about problems? You’ve only lived thirty-something years - that’s barely a blink.”_

_A rueful chuckle, then a warm hand landed on Tobio’s head, ruffling the dark hair. “Thirty-six years is more than enough time for me to have my own set of problems. Ones I can’t quite hide away from, in fact.”_

_“Because war is a much better way to handle them, sure.”_

_“They’re not wars - merely skirmishes and battles.”_

_“War, basically.”_

_A rueful sigh. “Not all my problems meet me on the battlefield. Life is a lot more complicated than that. Also, I’d have thought a centuries-old dragon would be better at changing the subject. Surely even you need company every now and then.”_

_“You’re-”_

_“Your friend, yes. But I meant non-human company, Tobio-kun.”_

_“They don’t like me anyway - it’s not worth the bother.” Tobio pulled his knees closer to himself, uncaring of how the jinbei sleeves wrinkle as he rests his head atop them. “Stop messing up my hair.”_

_“‘They’? Oh! The other magical folk? I’d have thought they’d be wiser than us mortals.”_

_“Hah! As if.”_

_“I suppose that’s true…literature paints the immortals as petty and temperamental. You certainly are moody anyway.” Laughter, and_ _Jūbei_ _leant away from the half-hearted snap of teeth in his direction. “Well, perhaps it’s simply a misunderstanding between you and, er, everyone else. Have you tried reaching out to them?”_

_“Waste of my time.”_

_Jūbei heaved another sigh._ _“Don’t you get lonely here?”_

_“No.” The answer comes more easily now than it used to. “Why should I be? I’ve got you now.”_

\---

The trespasser does not leave.

More specifically, he seems to have set up camp on one of the flatter outcrops of the mountain. Well, ‘setting up camp’ is a generous way to put it: there are no tents, nor food or drink that the dragon can spot. Dry, he’s not much bigger than he was when he was wet, the flame-colored hair being wilder and messier possibly the only real difference between the two states.

Squinting, the dragon swings his feet in the tree he’s currently perched in, conveniently transformed into his smaller, less ostentatious human form for better spying. So far, the boy seems mostly devoted to wandering around, sticking his head into random bushes and behind large rocks, as if expecting to find something. The dragon scoffs at the fool’s bumbling attempts. Seriously, what kind of idiot would expect a god to hide in a bush, of all things? A dumb one, that’s who.

Still, he can’t help but be reluctantly curious. Once a long time back, when he had freely mingled amongst both humans and youkai alike, he had seen unliving things resembling humans. ‘Golems’, their creator had called them, grinning at the curious bystanders even as he carelessly clumped humanoid forms together and animated them with elaborate seals stuck on their backs. They could be formed out of anything - sticks, stones, earth, trash - and pulled together into any conflagration, so long as the seal that animated them is stuck onto their ‘flesh’ somewhere. Perhaps more importantly, they were shaped solely to carry out their maker’s purpose. Kageyama had squeezed through the crowd of inquisitive spirits to watch the golems perform a variety of tasks, ranging from simple gestures to elaborate dances.

Yet, this boy is unlike any golem he’s ever encountered. For one, he’s too life-like, too lively in how he responds to his environment. For another, there doesn’t seem to be any sort of seal on him, stuck, carved or otherwise. Even as the dragon observes, the tiny boy crouches to poke at a couple of oddly-shaped stones, stacking them precariously atop each other before tipping the conflagration over.

In the hands of a master artisan, golems might perhaps come close to resembling humans. But try as their makers might, they can’t be imbued with personalities, those enviable and terrible traits of humanity. On top of that, they lack agenda, dutifully performing only the purpose they are created for. This one, if he’s even a golem to begin with, clearly has been well-formed (or poorly-formed) enough to be able to disregard commands -

“AHA, gotcha!”

The squawk that escapes the dragon’s lips is undignified as he scrambles to stay seated on the branch, one arm clinging to the trunk of the tree he’s sitting in as the other swats at the hands pulling at the hem of his kimono. “Oi, let _go_!”

“Hi!” The grip on the silken material is accompanied by an overly exuberant greeting. “I’m Hinata! Who are you?”

“What-“ The dragon kicks hard at the hand, grunting in satisfaction as it’s finally dislodged with a surprised yelp. Instead of a wince though, the flame-haired boy pouts.

“Oh, c’mon - I’ve been bored to death! Well, not to death, since I can’t die, but you get the point, right? It’s been ageeees since I’ve seen someone else, which is super-weird, really. I thought there’d be at least more people around.”

“Maybe,” the words are hissed out through gritted teeth, “there’s no one here because _they aren’t supposed to be here._ Just like how you _shouldn’t be here either._ ”

“Eh, do you think so? I didn’t see any signs on my way up saying to keep out though. Not that I would read them - I’ve gotta be here anyway, so maybe it’s a good thing I missed them!” Ignoring the mountain guardian’s incredulous snort, the boy grins widely. “But man, it’s great to see someone else around here too! I guess you’re also looking for the wishing god?”

“No, because there _is_ no wishing god, you…you. So you might as well turn and lea-”

Hinata interrupts the fairly polite warning, golden eyes large and curious. “Why are you here then?”

“I’m, uh…It’s none of your business, okay? Besides, unlike you, I have permission to be here!”

“Really? How did you get it?”

“I - who cares? You’re never going to get it anyway!”

“Too bad, I’m already here,” Hinata says cheerfully. “The dragon I met yesterday wasn’t too happy with me either, but he’s gone, and I’m still around, so there! I guess he scared everyone else away. If I were the wishing god, I’d be mad at him though; it must get pretty lonely on this mountain without people to talk to. Do gods get lonely, you think?”

The dragon savagely squashes the pang that had squeezed, tight, around his heart at that. Every instinct he possesses screams at him to wisp out of there and reconvene back at his abode far above any human (or non-human)’s prying gazes.

But if he does that, Hinata would immediately know he isn’t human, which wouldn’t help in turning him off the whole wishing god nonsense. Besides, the dragon’s curiosity has been piqued; never before has he failed in chasing people away from his mountain after the unfortunate child sacrifice an idiotic supplicant had tried once to ‘appease the dragon’. He’s aware of the fear the old poems weave about the dragon who protects the wishing god and devours wishes and wishers alike. These, alongside the cynical skepticism that trickled in with the twentieth century, are enough of a deterrent to ensure the rain dragon’s undisturbed existence.

It’s his choice to remain alone, he reminds himself savagely, even as he draws himself up to his full, human height and glares down his nose at Hinata. He’s not affected by the dumb words of a golem, of all things. He’s only hanging around because he has to watch the trespasser carefully to ensure he does not do anything stupid, and discourage him.

“What are you?”

“Oh. I am...a golem, I guess. But I’m not just any golem.” Hinata’s chest puffs up at that. “I’m _special_. Suga-san said so!”

“‘Suga-san’?”

“Oh, he’s the one who created me.” Hinata’s eyes drop to his shoes, the pride deflating out of him as quickly as it had swelled. “He’s gonna be angry to find me gone…but that doesn’t matter now anyway. I’m not going back until I meet the wishing god!”

“So you’re a runaway.”

“I’m not a runaway!” The reply is adamant, and the dragon is pinned by an indignant golden glare. “I’m…I have a wish, okay? A super-duper-important one!”

“One you’re not going to get granted.”

“I _will_ get it granted! I’ll find the wishing god and force him to grant it!”

The dragon’s heard that sentiment too many times to put too much stock in the fervor of Hinata’s declaration. “Look, whoever this Suga-whoever is, I think he’s given you the wrong purpose; maybe it’s the wrong seal -”

“He hasn’t!” The denial, quick as it comes, is almost immediately replaced by surprise. “Wait, you don’t know who Suga-san is? Really?”

“Why the hell would I know him?” The dragon snaps, oddly irritated.

“Because he’s Karasuno’s King Consort?...Sugawara Koushi?...” Hinata blinks at him. “Wow, you must have been stuck up here a really long time if you don’t know him. I guess that explains your weird clothing too-”

“I’m not ‘stuck’ here!” The dragon almost stamps his foot, catching himself in the nick of time. “ _There is no wishing god_ , you useless idiot-golem!”

Thunder punctuates the end of the shout, and the day visibly darkens as storm clouds blot out the sun. Still, the details are lost upon the golem, who merely sticks a tongue out at him.

“Just wait until I’ve met him - maybe he’ll be impressed enough to give me more than one wish. Then I’ll wish for you to be smart enough to believe in the wishing god!”

It’s too much - the golem’s wilful audacity, the mounting frustration, the urge to reach out and just _throttle_ \- the dragon snarls, pivoting on his heel and stalking away. He barely waits for the safe cover of the trees in his wake, doesn’t even properly check if Hinata’s following behind before he transforms with a snap of teeth, soaring off with a roar that shakes the rain loose from the clouds.

\---

_“Oh, Tobio-kun! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”_

_The dragon huffed, twisting around the samurai rapidly enough to generate a wind that almost lifted him off his feet before shooting back towards the sky. On the ground, the man waited patiently, settling down by the riverbank to wait until the sound of footsteps announced the arrival of a sulky figure._

_“How dare you forget about me.”_

_“Come now, you can’t surely think that I’d forget a friend quite like you so easily. But converting a temple into a base of operations is hard work, and you know I’ve been spending all my free time supervising the men to make sure it’s done properly. Don’t even deny it - I know you’ve spied on us.”_

_A derisive scoff. “‘Work’. Even the smallest spirit could do that. Bet I could do it in a night.”_

_“Ah, but we aren’t all dragons able to magically transform temples into palaces overnight, Tobio-kun.” There was a weary fondness in the reply though, as the dragon folded his legs to seat himself beside the man. “We humans must find other means to achieve what the gods can do in seconds. Still, we’re making good progress, if I do say so myself.”_

_“You’re too optimistic over the most trivial things sometimes, Jūbei.”_

_Jūbei chuckled. “Oda-dono is pleased; isn’t that good enough reason to be optimistic?”_

_“Who cares about your Oda?”_

_“What I would give to see his face if he hears that.” The chuckle morphed into peals of laughter, and Jūbei slapped at his knee, eyes crinkling around the corners. “Ah, that was a good joke. A good joke, indeed. Did you hear of our success at Nagashino?” At Tobio’s indifferent shrug, he continued, “I still remember what they said at Nagashima; that our losses to the Ikkō-ikki were too devastating. That Oda-dono’s forces would not recover in time. That we were doomed. Hah! If people could be fed their own words, their doubts would be the bitter gall of jealousy and ineptitude. Truly, the gods must have cast their favor upon Oda-dono as Nihon’s unifier.”_

_The fierce triumph that lit up the samurai’s features melted into a chagrined smile at his companion’s blank stare. “Not that you care, I suppose, Tobio-kun. The politics of the spirit world must be a very different thing from ours.”_

_“Probably. I don’t care about it.”_

_“Surely there must be some kind of centralized government? A Shogun, perhaps? A daimyō? Shouldn’t you at least know these things? Do you even talk to other spirits and magical beings?” Tobio’s stony silence prompted Jūbei to face the dragon, expression reproachful. “A month, Tobio-kun. I haven’t spoken to you in a month, and you’re still all by yourself in the forest.”_

_“I prefer it that way.”_

_“Even this lowly human can tell you that unless you are a practising monk, no one makes a conscious decision to exist in solitude.”_

_“You’re not a lowly human.” The answer came quickly, Tobio flushing the minute he said it. “You’re just…human.”_

_The sparrows take to the sky in alarm at the sudden roar of laughter that rang out. “To think that you threatened to eat me not a year ago! How the times change.”_

_“S-shut up! I can still eat you, you know!”_

_“You can bare those fangs all you want, Tobio-kun. But I hold no more fear of Kyoto’s amaryuu. Ah, did you hear that? My stomach is infinitely louder than any thunder clap you can produce beneath your claws.”_

\---

“What are you doing?”

The dragon doesn’t jump. He doesn’t drop the squirming grasshopper pinched between his fingers. And he absolutely doesn’t _squeak._

Thankfully, Hinata’s more distracted by the insect’s bid for freedom to have noticed the undignified sound. “Hey, your insect’s running away!”

“Forget the grasshopper; how the hell do you keep- “

Too late; Hinata’s already on his knees, hands more enthusiastic than skilled in his attempts to recapture the frantic insect. Still, he’s much larger and certainly more energetic than his prey, and it’s not long before the golem is thrusting the half-dead grasshopper back to the mountain guardian.

“Here you go!”

The rain dragon’s half-inclined to push the hand away - he hadn’t asked for neither Hinata’s interference nor presence for that matter. But Hinata’s knees bear marks of his effort: angry red spots and nasty scratches where dirt and stones had scraped against fair skin. The sight is hard to ignore, and the dragon reluctantly mutters “thanks”, snatching the grasshopper and chomping into it with a satisfying crunch.

“Is it delicious?”

“Would I eat it if it weren’t?”

The golem shrugs. “Some people seem to do things they don’t like, so maybe?”

“Whatever. Don’t those hurt?”

“Huh? Oh.” Hinata barely glances down at his knees, brushing the remaining grit off the pockmarked flesh carelessly. “Don’t worry - it doesn’t hurt at all! I don’t feel…uh, I think it’s called ‘pain’? Yeah, ‘pain’ - that’s it.”

“You...don’t feel pain?”

“I guess I can feel it, but it doesn’t bother me.” Hinata rubs at the back of his head. “Guess that’s one of the upsides of being what I am. ‘Hurt’ and ‘pain’ sure sound yucky though - Suga-san cried once when Sawamura-san wasn’t around. He probably didn’t see me looking, but the lines running up his arms looked really gross, kinda like tree roots.”

‘Suga-san’ again. The dragon squashes the inexplicable irritation rising within him, brusquely sticking a hand into the basket in his lap and seizing another grasshopper from beneath the silk netting. He takes the time to savor this one though, biting off the head almost delicately, eyes going half-lidded as the flavor floods his tongue.

Annoyingly, Hinata doesn’t move away. He crouches beside the dragon’s human form, that golden attention focused unerringly on his mouth. It’s unnerving, and the dragon pauses mid-chew, dropping his hand and scowling.

“Oi, quit staring.”

“Am I? Sorry! It’s just -” Small fingers gesture animatedly at the basket. “It’s really weird. In a cool kind of way, I mean! I’ve never seen people eat insects before. Noya-san does eat some bugs, but not big ones, and he says he prefers burgers these days. And I’ve never seen anyone else eat grasshoppers, so...it’s weird!”

The scowl deepens. “It’s not weird! _You’re_ weird.”

Hinata pouts, looking slightly put out. “No I’m not - I’m special! That’s different.”

“How is it any different?”

“It…it just is!” Hinata wrinkles his nose. “Oh, one of your grasshoppers is trying to escape again. I think it’d probably be easier to eat them if they were asleep. But that’s kind of mean, eating them without them knowing.”

“Aish!” The dragon pinches the grasshopper a little harder than he should, the crease between his brow deepening. “You’re disturbing my lunch - go _away._ ”

“There’s nowhere else to go,” Hinata says plaintively. “I’ve already been over this _whole_ mountain; the wishing god is real good at hiding. He’s better than Tsukishima-san on a bad day, even.”

“ _Look_ , if I give you a grasshopper, will you at least shut up?”

“Oh, I don’t have to eat. S’a part of being a golem and all -” Hinata squeaks as long fingers flicks a grasshopper at him, gangly limbs flailing as he rushes to catch it before it hops off.

Despite himself, the dragon can’t help but watch the golem attempt to pinch the grasshopper the way he had done, the insect’s legs flailing within the clumsy grip. “Start from the head,” he finds himself saying. “That’s the right way to eat it.”

Hinata does just that, pulling a face almost immediately after. “ _Blehhh_. It’s tasteless.”

“No, it isn’t!” The dragon snatches the morsel still held between Hinata’s fingers, popping it into his own mouth and crunching on it obnoxiously. “It’s delicious.”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“How would you know anyway? Dumb golems can’t taste stuff!”

“I… guess I can’t.”

The dark head lifts when Hinata goes quiet, almost regrets it when he sees the unhappy twist at the edges of the golem’s expressive lips. The long years of solitude have not completely removed the memories of his days amongst humans; his time in Kyoto is more than enough for him to figure out he’s messed up again somehow.

Grimacing, he stares down at his hands, mind racing. Social interaction is not his expertise - never has been, in fact, and he’s at a loss as to what to do. It’s not like he can offer him another grasshopper, and wish-granting is absolutely out of the question. What was it that humans do again? Apologize?

_“I’m really sorry, Tobio-kun. I don’t expect you to understand, but I have to do this.”_

No. Apologizing is also out of the question.

“...Guess golems aren’t really made to enjoy food, huh?” he finally offers awkwardly.

“Normal golems aren’t. But…” Hinata touches his mouth. “I’m supposed to be able to.”

“That Suga-san of yours must have messed up somehow.” Wait. Crap. Social interaction. He wasn’t supposed to say that, right?

But instead of the indignant explosion the dragon braces himself for, Hinata merely shakes his head. “Suga-san’s already done his best. That’s why I’ve got to find the wishing god and get him to listen to my wish. It’s super-duper important!”

“Wha-”

Hinata’s already clambering to his feet, rolling his shoulders. “Aw man, I’ve wasted so much time today! I’ve got a good feeling about the big rock by the other big rock on the flat side of the mountain - I’ll go check it out. Just watch, I’ll get my wish granted today!”

Despite his unwillingness to get himself further involved in the golem’s mad resolve, the dragon finds himself yelling after Hinata, “What wish?”

Hinata doesn’t turn around, the words echoing in his wake. “To be real!”

\---

_“Hey, today’s grasshoppers are way too small. Where did you even find these?”_

_“...”_

_“Hey, are you paying attention?”_ _Tobio popped the last grasshopper into his mouth._ _“You’re unusually grouchy today.”_

_“Mmmm.”_

_“Is this because of your Oda reneging on the peace agreement with Hatano?”_

_Brown eyes snapped up to meet otherworldly blue ones. “How did you - ah, right. You’re a dragon.”_

_“It’s pretty big, even in the spirit world.” As solitary as Tobio was, it was difficult to avoid the news being carried to every ear, willing or otherwise. Something is on the cusp of happening, said those who could peek into the future. Something will die, sang those who lit the way to the afterlife. Something will definitely be entertaining, murmured the restless, the excited, the ones who walked day-to-day amongst the living. Humans, what funny little lives they lead!_

_Tobio couldn’t care less about the chattering. But Jūbei’s jaw was tight, and from what Tobio had learnt from watching the humans, friends should care when the other was clearly troubled._

_“Do you need me to devour someone?”_

_That finally elicited a short chuckle out of the samurai. “No… no. Everything’s fine. I trust Oda-dono; he knows what he’s doing.”_

_“If you say so.” Tobio didn’t say what the wind had also brought to him: that Oda Nobunaga was an ambitious man with power and lives dripping from his fingers, and stone behind his eyes; that chaos was a heavy haori across his shoulders, and steel embedded beneath his knuckles. That he wrote futures in blood and cunning._

_Tobio didn’t say anything, let it roll off his back the way the summer rainfalls did as he dismissed Jūbei’s odd mood._

_It would pass, like the seasons did. Humans were odd that way._

\---

The thought of Hinata’s wish ends up bothering the mountain guardian more than a throwaway comment should. It’s a persistent gnat, nagging at his thoughts throughout the day, spoiling the taste of grasshoppers and disrupting the peace usually so easily begotten from feeding the koi at the top of the mountain.

It bothers him enough that he accidentally pulls together an unexpected hurricane in place of the light shower he had planned for Sendai - he glowers at his handiwork as it advances ominously towards the town, looking twice as threatening against the balmy weather that’s supposed to be slated for the rest of the month.

Stupid, he berates himself, for allowing himself to be this distracted. He hasn’t granted wishes in ages, and he doesn’t intend to start now. A throwaway comment, by a golem no less, shouldn’t be taking up so much of his thoughts.

“Wow, that’s one scary-looking storm.”

He should be used to this, the dragon thinks sourly, even as his body jerks on instinct, hastily rebalancing his footing where toes are curled over the edges of the cliff. Really, if Hinata were to announce that he has some sort of tracking charm embedded in him, he wouldn’t be surprised.

As it is, he whirls around in a flurry of silver silk fabric and demands, “How the hell do you keep _finding_ me?”

“It’s not very hard,” Hinata says seriously. “I just follow the aura of grumpiness.”

“...the aura of _what_?”

Hinata’s face holds impressively straight a little while longer. Then, pursed lips quiver before the golem explodes with helpless laughter, clutching at his stomach. “Oh man, your face! You looked so-! So-!” Hands flail in a futile attempt to convey some kind of incoherent meaning as Hinata dissolves into giggles anew.

Unimpressed, the dragon folded his arms, the line between his eyebrows a hard crease. “If you’re going to be an incoherent dumbass, I’ll just leave-”

“Nooo, wait! Don’t go. I’ll stop. Guess you’re not too good with jokes, huh?”

“Shut up, I’m great with jokes! Yours just wasn’t funny!”

“It was too! Besides, if auras of grumpiness exist, you’ll definitely have one.” Hinata ambles over until he’s right beside the rain dragon, dropping into a sitting position that has his legs swinging over the ledge. The dragon swallows the warning that almost rolls off his tongue; it isn’t as if golems could die anyway. Plus, if Hinata tumbles over, he will make sure he laughs extra-loudly in his face.

Speaking of golems though…The dragon levels a considering look on Hinata, who’s still chattering away about how he’s “even grouchier than Tsukishima-san - I didn’t think that was possible, given how irritated he gets when people bug him about the future.”

“ _You_ shouldn’t be possible,” he says, abruptly cutting through Hinata’s cheerful rambling. “I thought golems weren’t supposed to be able to tell a lie. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know golems could talk. But you? You _never shut up._ ”

“I’ve already told you; I’m-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re special. You’ve said that a thousand times already.” A wisp of cloud balloons out of the rain dragon’s kimono sleeve; he waves his arm impatiently, setting it adrift. “How are you so special anyway?”

Hinata hums. “I dunno. You’ll probably have to ask Suga-san about that.”

A snort. “Then how are you so sure you’re special then?”

“Because of the way I was made.” Hinata taps at his chin. “It was a bit of gwah! And bwah! And brrrrmpph!” He glances up at the dragon’s face, and snickers at the flat expression. “Didn’t you get it?”

“Gwah. And bwah. And brrrrmph.”

The golem nods, looking completely serious. “Exactly. It’s a pretty tricky process.”

It probably isn’t worth pursuing the semantics behind the sounds. “How’s that any different from the other golems?”

Hinata shrugs. “It just is. I don’t know how to describe it fully, but yeah. You can see it too, right? That I’m different from the others?”

The dragon grunts, oddly dissatisfied as Hinata returns to looking at the view. “What were you even made for anyway? Golems aren’t supposed to be-”

“What, smart? Independent?” The golem doesn’t look away from the storm clouds, ignoring the rain dragon’s snort. “Why do you care anyway?”

“I don’t care.” He does, a little, the dragon realizes with a start.

“Then I don’t want to tell you, so there. Who made _you_ anyway? Since you’re so fussy about being ‘made’ and everything.”

“No one had to make me. I just was.”

“Wow, that’s worse than me - at least _I_ know how I was made. Didn’t your parents ever explain?”

“I wasn’t _born_ , idiot. I’m not human.” Wriggling his fingers irritably, the dragon twists together the whisper of a raincloud, flicking it to hover over Hinata’s head. “See?”

“Oh!” Hinata jerks as the sparse drops of rain touch his skin, his whole body stiffening as if he were electrocuted. “It’s that sky-water thing again! _Woahhhh_.”

“Sky-water - You…don’t know what ‘rain’ is?”

“Ooh, is this ‘rain’? Isn’t it supposed to be bigger? Like, sky-big? Oh, oh, wait - I think I’ve been rained on before then, when I was halfway up the mountain! But there was a lot more water, and definitely a whole lot more wind.”

Cerulean eyes stare at how the golem’s fingers tentatively brush across the damp splotches that had soaked into his shirt. “But - but you recognized the storm clouds!”

“Yeah, I’ve got some of Suga-san’s memories in me, but.” Hinata’s shoulders hunch defensively. “I’m working hard on making some of my own, okay? It’s not like I’ve had a lot of time to do that yet; I’m only two weeks old -”

“You’re _what???”_ Several birds take to the sky, startled by the incredulous screech, but the dragon’s too busy boggling at the golem’s small form to pay them much heed.

“Yup. And there wasn’t enough clay left to make a full-size human; that’s why I’m so small. At least, that’s what Suga-san told-”

“ _You’re_ _two weeks old???_ ” The dragon’s mind is still fixated on that nugget of information. “That’s like - you’re practically a baby! Less than a baby! What the fuck does something less than a _baby_ need a wish for?”

For once, an answer doesn’t immediately spill from Hinata’s mouth. Instead, the golem pokes at the wet spots on his shirt again. “Hey, if you made this rain thing, that means you made that storm over there?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“Why would you want to know anyway?” The sun teases the gold flecks in Hinata’s eyes out, setting them alight. “That’s between the wishing god and me.”

“I-” He does _not care_ , the dragon reminds himself savagely. “I just want you to stop bothering me already.”

“Too bad.” Hinata sticks out his tongue. “I’m not going until I get-”

“Your wish granted, yeah, yeah, I got it the first few hundred times.”

“Exactly. Hey, do you think anyone’s ever succeeded in meeting the wishing god?”

The denial springs immediately to the the dragon’s mind, but he hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “...Maybe. But not in a long time. Not in years.”

“How do you know?”

“...Because.”

“Because what?”

“Because I live here, you two-week-old baby!”

“What, this whole time? By yourself?” Hinata cocks his head, looking for all the world like one of the inquisitive morning sparrows that perch on the maple trees. “Don’t you get awfully lonely?”

The tightness around the dragon’s jaw doesn’t loosen; if anything, it hardens further. “It’s better this way.”

“Why?”

“It’s…It just is, ok? Stop asking dumb questions.”

Hinata hums, but subsides. “Oh, I almost forgot! Got distracted by the storm earlier, but…” He stuffs a hand into his pocket, rooting around a little before producing a small sound of satisfaction. “The wishing god wasn’t at the rock, but the grasshoppers there were pretty big, so I got you a couple. They kept trying to climb out of my pocket, and a couple of them escaped, but there should still be enough for a snack.”

The insects in Hinata’s grip are half-crushed and almost dead, exactly the opposite of how the dragon usually likes them. And yet, he can’t tear his eyes off them, an inexplicable lump building in his throat.

Stupid, really. It’s not like he needs tributes to be pacified anymore. Sacrifices were stupid anyway.

But this…this isn’t a sacrifice, right? This is more akin to a…gift.

Hinata doesn’t notice the mild tremble that shudders through long fingers that reach out for the grasshoppers. But golden eyes narrow as a small fist withdraws slightly.

“Oh shit, you have roots under your skin too.”

Roots? A quick glance at his wrist turns into a puzzled frown, and the dragon lifts his hand up to inspect the black veins spidering across his skin. “Huh? What’s this?”

Hinata offers no answer, the excitable golem’s expression closing. “Hey. If you find the wishing god before me, tell him I’m looking for him, okay? It’s super-important.”

“What? Wait, you haven’t-”

Hinata is gone, grasshoppers and all, before the dragon manages to finish his sentence. Huffing, he examines his hand again, tracing the dark lines until they fade back into unblemished skin beneath his touch.

The odd feeling of unease doesn’t disappear with the lines though, and he pulls his kimono sleeves straight again.

He’ll just ask Hinata the next time he comes across the golem. Knowing him, he’ll turn up eventually when he’s least expected to anyway.

\---

 _“_ _Jūbei! Jūbei! Ju-” The call faltered at the sight of the motionless figure, the white knuckles, the clenched jaw. The long silver form spiralled around the retainer, mane drifting weightless in an unseen wind. “What’s wrong?”_

_Jūbei didn’t answer immediately and Tobio continued to circle him, agitated without knowing the source of his anxiety. “Hey. Hey, Jūbei. You’re acting really weird; it’s freaky. What are you-”_

_“Na, Tobio-kun. You said once you could grant wishes, right?” Jūbei’s eyes were flint in a face carved of stone. “What would it take to grant mine?”_

\---

“時は今 雨がした滴る皐月かな.”

_“Toki wa ima, ame ga shitashiru satsukikana.”_

_“The time is now, the fifth month when the rain falls.”_

_Akechi_ _Jūbei Minamoto-no-_ _Mitsuhide_

\---

He doesn’t see Hinata for the next few days.

The first day the golem doesn’t turn up is sweet, sweet relief. At least, that’s what the dragon tells himself.

The second day passes by with zero interruptions as well. Then the third, and fourth...

The rain dragon growls at the sky, lips thin with displeasure as he vengefully disperses the answering storm clouds that had gathered to reflect his mood. Had the idiot-golem left the mountain after all?

He’s just irritated because Hinata hadn’t even given him the promised grasshoppers properly before leaving, he tells himself as he transforms, long whiskers lashing with agitation as he tucks his legs in. He’s not searching for the golem, just checking for other intruders and anomalies.

In this form, it doesn’t take too long to encircle the mountain. Hinata’s innate ability to appear in inconvenient places apparently extends to disappearing though - it isn’t until the moon is high in the night sky that the dragon finally stumbles across the golem on one of the flatter ridges along the east side.

A seamless transformation behind a couple of rocks, an impatient tug at his obi, and the dragon is stalking out, forehead knitted into a scowl.

“There you are, you idiot! I’ve been loo-” he stops abruptly, conscious of what he’d been about to say. “I meah, uh. You shouldn’t just...go anywhere you please.”

Thankfully, Hinata doesn’t seem to notice the bungled admonishment, spread-eagled as he is on the ground. Grumpily, the dragon seats himself beside him.

“Where have you…” The demand peters off awkwardly at the sight of the tear streaks glimmering on Hinata’s cheeks. The golem turns away from the nonplussed stare, uncharacteristically silent save for a few unsuccessfully stifled sniffles.

Huffing, the dragon redirects his gaze towards the sky, kimono sleeves sliding back to pool around thin elbows as he lifts his arms. A few curt swipes send the thin clouds drifting away from the night panorama directly above the two small figures; a slow and steady exhale summons a gentle breeze to ruffle the tips of the sparse patches of grass.

“See those three stars?” The dragon waits until the golem’s natural curiosity kicks in, the tear-stained face turning towards where his finger is pointed at the glowing asterism. “That’s Alnitak. Anilam. And Mintaka. Together, they’re Mitsu Boshi - the belt stars.”

“Mmmm.”

“Pay attention. Up here, Betelgeuse and Gamma Ori. These two are Waki Boshi, the outer edges.”

“Gamma Ori’s really bright.”

 _A little like you_ , the dragon doesn’t say aloud, settling for a grunt instead. It doesn’t take much effort to produce a thin strand of crackling energy, looping it into an elegant circle that appears to touch both the named constellations. A brisk snap of fingers creates a new gleaming line, which the dragon draws downwards towards a different cluster of constellations.

“Here, Rigel and Kappa Ori. They’re also Waki Boshi.” Another circle, then another line that the dragon links back to Betelgeuse. Then he starts carefully filling in the spaces, weaving threads of light that dart between the two hovering circles, passing through the belt stars in the center.

The golem remains silent throughout the careful process - a quick glance at the upturned face confirms his enthrallment with the sight the dragon is creating. Then, “Oh! It’s a...it’s a drum, right?”

“A tsuzumi, yes.” Once the last line is in place, the dragon’s hand drops back to his side, leaving the glimmering image floating in place. “Some call it Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi, since it appears to strike both the Waki Boshi.”

A clap of hands, and the rhythmic thumping of a traditional drum starts up, echoing across the empty expanse. The resonance startles a laugh out of Hinata, whose head swings around, trying in vain to locate the source of the sound.

“Whoa! Where’s that coming from?”

The dragon gestures at the sky. “From up there.”

“From the Kana- Kanatsu-”

“From the Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi, yes.” The dragon’s eyes are half-lidded, the steady drumming washing over him in reassuring waves. “Way back in the day, it used to be a celestial summon. No deity could resist the call of the drums.”

“Whoa. Do you think it’ll call the wishing god here?”

The familiar retort springs to the dragon’s tongue, but is swallowed back down. “There’s always a chance,” he says instead.

“Can you say their names again while we wait for him? The stars?”

The put-upon sigh is half-hearted at best, and the dragon dutifully repeats the name of the stars, making the lines brighten as he points them out. The golem doesn’t mangle the pronunciation too badly, he concedes. At the very least, the tears have stopped when Hinata turns to look at him.

“You know, I don’t know your name.”

The dragon blinks. “Oh.” Right. Hinata had offered his enthusiastically at the first meeting, but where he should have reciprocated the gesture, the dragon had demanded the golem leave the mountain. Still, “You don’t need to know my name.”

“No, I definitely do.” Earnestness has Hinata scrambling to sit up. “I mean, isn’t it weird? I know all the names of the Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi now, but not the name of my first friend. Outside Karasuno, anyway. S’not like I had a lot of time to meet people or anything-”

“...I’m your first friend?”

“Yep,” matter-of-factly, the truth in it ringing like a clarion in the dark. “So, c’mon, what’s your name?”

The answer is halting, as if gone long unused. “...you can call me ‘Kageyama’.”

“Kageyama.” The name is gilded in Hinata’s higher, lighter voice, lilting into a song-like chant against the accompaniment of the celestial tsuzumi. “Kageyama, Kageyama, Kageyama-”

“Oi, stop that!”

“Kage- oh! Your eyes!” Hinata leans in, his own widening with soft awe. “They’re _glowing_.”

Kageyama hurriedly closes his eyelids, but the warmth pulses through him anyway, throbbing with the innate compulsion of a name-summon. Shit, he should have given the golem a different name-

Hands on both sides of his face have Kageyama’s eyes popping open again, and he startles at how close Hinata’s face is. “Don’t close them - they’re beautiful.”

A different kind of heat blooms under Hinata’s fingers, and Kageyama scrambles back ungracefully, heart loud in his ears.

“W-What does a golem know about beauty anyway?”

Hinata tips his head. “Do I need to know a lot about it? I mean, I know that I like your eyes; isn’t that enough?”

The honest answer dissolves any smart retort Kageyama might have had, and he drops his head, desperately willing the flush that suffused his cheeks away.

Hinata is, thankfully, already looking back at the night sky. “Hey, Kageyama. Do you think anyone has ever wished to be able to touch the stars?”

A throb of pain. _You said once you could grant wishes, right?_

“Who would wish for such a useless thing?”

“It’s not useless! And I would! If I could have more than one wish, I’d totally wish to touch the stars.”

“Idiot, you can’t -”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Hinata goes quiet, his head on his knees, the stars in his eyes. “‘But it would be a cool wish, right?”

Would he have been able to grant such a wish? Kageyama doesn’t know. So he raises an eyebrow instead. “You’d waste your second wish on something as stupid as being able to touch the stars?”

“It’s not a stupid wish!” Hinata nibbles at his lower lip. “But yeah, if I could have two wishes, I would totally wish for that. Or for something bigger and cooler. Like...like touching the sun!”

“A true dumbass right there.”

“Hey, take that back!”

“Why for? It’s the truth.”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!” The dejection that had swamped the small golem is all but gone as he tackles Kageyama, pushing the two of them back against the short grass of the plateau they’re on. The drumming and the lines outlining the Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi fade into the noise of yelling, but neither dragon nor golem notice, preoccupied as they are. Three tumbles later, Kageyama’s sleet-white kimono is stained with chlorophyll patches and dirt, but its wearer pays it no heed, shouting something about useless golems as said golem vehemently denies it all in between breathless laughter.

“Hey, useless Hinata,” Kageyama says after the exchange has finally died down into breathless wheezing. “You yelled something about wishing to ‘be real’ before.”

“Yeah.” The confirmation is slightly hoarse, but no less vehement. “I need to be a proper human being.”

“But…why? I thought golems didn’t need anything. You don’t need to eat, to breathe - I don’t think you can even die, not without your creator’s command.”

The silence is a beat longer than expected. “That’s between me and the wishing god if he asks.”

“What’s so special about it that you can’t just come out and say it?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Hinata mumbles, rolling onto his side. “I was made for this.”

“Made for what?”

“To… _argggggh_! I can’t tell you, alright? Only the wishing god!”

“You sure you know what you’d say to him if you ever met him?”

“Of course! I’m a golem, not an idiot.”

“Hah!  You better make sure you brush up on your manners, dumbass, because maybe,” Kageyama finds himself saying inanely, “just maybe, I’ll consider taking you to see the wishing god.”

“What???” Hinata is on his feet in an instant, crouching beside Kageyama, face suffused with hope and eagerness.“You will? For real? What happened to all the grumpy ‘there is no wishing god’ talk?”

In response, Kageyama transforms; the lithe limbs lengthen into sleek, strong hide, the face stretches as teeth elongate into curved fangs. The stylistic waves of water, usually so still against the fabric of the silk kimono, come alive, rippling downwards in torrents over shimmering scales that push up and through the back of the sinuous body in ridges. The only thing that remains constant is the blue of the large eyes, luminous and bright.

Marring the majestic form however are the ash grey lines, haphazard and ugly where they streak around legs and scales, fracturing through the otherwise-pristine silver of the glittering body. But Kageyama doesn’t notice, and neither does Hinata, a triumphant grin stretching wide across his face, visible even from where the rain dragon is floating.

“I knew it! I _knew_ you were the dragon!”

\---

_Beneath the waterfall_

_Transformed dreams are devoured_

_by the dragon_

_The mountain's farthest depths_

_Hides the god’s drowsiness._

_\---_

_The news of_ _Honnō-ji could not be contained: Oda Nobunaga, in the height of his conquest, had died; Oda Nobunaga had been killed - no, Oda Nobunaga was forced to commit seppuku, by his own retainer no less -_

_Word spread like the flames that had risen from the daimyō’s pyre, unhindered by the miasma of fear that had fallen over the populace. Amidst the chaos, the spirit world clustered closer, eager and interested. Youkai put on human masks, weaving amongst the mortals to listen to the rumors spidering outwards from Kyoto. Kitsunes and kappas flocked to their kind that could see the future, eager to gossip and watch the entertainment unfold. Shapeshifters prowled the corners of streets, ears sharp._

_And in the midst of it all - Akechi Mitsuhide’s name swirled, syllables passing from mouth to mouth. Akechi Mitsuhide had seized Azuchi-jō, Akechi Mitsuhide had declared himself ‘Shogun’-_

_Akechi Mitsuhide, also known as Koretō Hyūga no Kami, first named Jūbei._

_How could Oda’s most trusted retainer have betrayed his daimyō? Had he been planning to forsake Oda-dono all along?_

_More importantly, how did he manage what was an almost impossible feat?_

_Tobio heard none of the wild speculations as to how Akechi had managed to pull the coup off. He hadn’t needed to - the magic of the wish fulfillment had bloomed, bloodstained as it returned to nest back under iridescent scales, a chime of death and ashes that confirmed its execution, mournful and heavy, within its horror-struck master._

_No one would ever connect the tragedy of Honnō-ji with the single dragon who fled Kyoto long before the mourning chants entered its gates._

_Yet even the humans commented on the greyer skies thirteen days into Akechi’s ill-fated campaign, the unceasing storm threatening to flood the fields and drown the harvest. Heaven is crying, they said, faces solemn, for the traitor-shogun’s short-lived rule. A funeral dirge for the unnoble death of a disgraced samurai._

_If the rain fell heavier along a little-used path from Kyoto to Miyagi, no one noticed._

_\---_

_“Tobio-kun, how do I wish for the success of a single action? Just one.”_

_“You just wish for it, idiot. I’ll do the rest.”_

_\---_

“So, what do people taste like?”

“Huh?”

“You know, _people_.” Without breaking stride, Hinata gestures at himself, sweeping from his head to his toes. “The waka said the dragon - you, I mean - devoured those who tried to meet the wishing god.”

Kageyama snorts. “I don’t _eat_ people, dumbass. It’s not my fault the waka writers are all melodramatic idiots.”

“Ah,” Hinata’s nod is cut off by a small ‘eep’ as he almost trips over an upraised root along the path. “The waka writers are dumb, you only kill people. Got it.”

“I don’t kill people either!”

“You tried to kill me when I first found this mountain,” the golem points out. “Slow down!”

Ornate kimono sleeves billow beautifully in the dragon’s wake as he glides through the brush and bushes. “Move faster. And I don’t particularly like killing people. It’s a lot harder than you think, electrocuting them until they die.”

“If you say so.” Hinata’s pace does pick up, much to the dragon’s annoyance. “Well, I bet people probably taste horrible anyway. Hey, do you think I taste more like mud or people?”

“How should I know? You couldn’t bribe me to eat you.”

“Wow, you’re meaner than Tsukishima-san.” Hinata grunts as a branch snaps backwards into his stomach, pushing it aside with some effort. “Where are we going anyway?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“Will the wishing god be there?”

 _“_ I said I might take you to see him eventually, not immediately.”

“So he’s _not_ there? Why are we going then?”

Kageyama rolls his eyes. “If you shut up for a few seconds and start walking properly, you’ll find out faster, won’t you?”

“Easy for you to say,” comes the mutinous reply as Hinata clambers over a particularly thorny bush with some effort. “Why is this path so _bushy_? Are you picking this way on purpose?”

The dragon hides the small smirk that curls around the corner of his lips. “Well, if you can’t keep up-”

“I’m keeping up!” comes the indignant retort, even as Hinata barrels through the foliage long untouched by any other living being aside from Kageyama himself. “But are we almost there yet?”

“See for yourself.” Kageyama hangs back a little, just to see the expression on Hinata’s face once he stumbles into the small clearing. Years of solitude also meant years of tending to the umanoashigata that constantly bloom, regardless of the season. They sway now in the breeze, swathes of yellow blossoms that line the small brook snaking into the space and circle the base of the beech trees enclosing the space. Even more of the same bright flowers ring the pool the water cascades into, large koi swimming leisurely beneath the crystalline surface.

The golem goes utterly still, hands falling to his sides, eyes huge in his face. “ _Wow._ ”

“Come on.” Kageyama doesn’t bother watching his step, floating down to where the water laps at the rocks. He turns when the sound of footsteps doesn’t immediately follow. “Didn’t you hear-”

“This is _amazing_ .” The golem hasn’t moved but his mouth does, the compliment unabashedly honest in its awe. “I thought I saw every part of this mountain, but…how did I miss _this?_ ”

“Normal people are forbidden from stepping in here.” The pleasure of satisfaction swells, and Kageyama stiffens minutely before relaxing. Hinata isn’t able to read minds after all, and no one would be the wiser if Kageyama preens a little at the praise. “You wouldn’t have been able to find this place even if you tried.”

“Forbidden? But we’re here - oh.” The palm Hinata slaps to his forehead is slightly comical. “Dragon, right. I guess this is your home, kinda.”

“I suppose.” Kageyama waits until Hinata finally approaches the pool, leaning over to peer at the koi. Then, he reaches out and pushes firmly against the small of the golem’s back.

As expected, Hinata tips over, arms wind-milling frantically as he falls head-over-heels into the water with an impressive splash, sending red-and-silver bodies streaking away in alarm. The pool churns as the golem flails around underwater in an attempt to find his footing, and Kageyama gives in to the urge to laugh.

He’s still laughing by the time Hinata comes back up, water streaming off his form as he splutters, spitting water out of his mouth.

“Bakageyama! What was that for?!”

Even dumbass-golems with no basic needs stink without baths. At least, that’s what Kageyama had been going to say, until his eyes register the sight before him. He had known Hinata’s clothes were ill-fitting, clearly borrowed from someone else. But the water knew better apparently, drenching thin cotton enough to cling to arms and legs, cloth folding in on itself as thin streams of water drip down Hinata’s body.

He’s meticulously shaped, all that loudness compressed into a slender body verging on reed-like, with the long, gangly limbs of a faun. The sun doesn’t pink his skin - rather, it makes Hinata paler, a contrast against hair so bright that even damp, it seemed to be aflame. Suga-san had clearly crafted Hinata with a lot of care, from the spiky eyelashes to the graceful line of his shoulders.

He’s beautiful. In the quiet of his mind, barred protectively behind his silence, Kageyama can admit as much.

The only flaws marring the golem’s form are the angry red slashes along his arms and shins; guiltily, Kageyama remembers the branches and rocks he had deliberately led Hinata through on their trek to this spot.

Hinata’s still railing at him, spots of color flushing his cheeks in his indignation. Kageyama brushes the yelling aside absent-mindedly, still eyeing the lacerations.

“Those really don’t hurt?”

“Huh?” Hinata pauses, following Kageyama’s gaze down to a particularly long cut below his elbow. “Oh, nah. Golems can’t feel pain, remember?”

Kageyama frowns. “But you’re special, right?”

It’s almost worth the verbal concession to see Hinata light up, that generous grin already tugging his lips upwards. “I am, yeah! But I’m still a golem anyway. So I don’t have to eat, or even breathe, actually. Guess that’s...pretty weird, huh?”

The smile wavers, threatens to crumble in on itself and Kageyama panics. Instinctively, he falls back onto the one thing he does best. “So you’re saying you’re not special, just weird.”

“No.” That familiar bull-headed insistence creeps back into Hinata’s voice. “I’m still the most special golem ever created!”

“Too late. Taken it back; you’re not special.”

“You can’t take back stuff like that, not when it’s the truth!”

“I just did, because you’re definitely the most un-special-est golem I’ve ever met!”

Hinata’s response is an indignant splash of water that Kageyama barely has time to redirect towards the trees beside him. His arm stiffens briefly, aches a little too much for such a small action, but he’s too distracted to pay it much attention. “Oi, watch the koi!”

“Idiot Kageyama!” The golem’s next splash is considerably smaller. “Stop dodging!”

“Stop splashing water at me then!”

“Not until you admit I’m special again!”

The smile is gone, but rather than tears, it’s dissolved into that compelling determination that commands Kageyama’s attention so easily, even as the dragon says, “You’re not special, just wet.”

Even as he watches from where he’s perched, Hinata visibly starts, looking down at where he’s still waist-deep in the pool. The hands that had so enthusiastically flung water at Kageyama carefully lower themselves to the surface of the pond, dragging ripples across the clear surface.

Then Hinata throws back his head, a peal of laughter escaping him as he spins - slowly, then faster and faster, until he’s churning small waves with every twirl. Below the surface, the shorts that are too baggy on land float around oddly graceful legs, and Kageyama is reminded of the errant water sprites he’s met once or twice when he had still been in Kyoto.

It takes only the minute twitch of his finger and the water leaps obligingly, swirling around the golem in latticed patterns as Hinata stops, entranced by the new wonder.

“Kageyama!” he calls. “Oi, Kageyama! This is awesome!”

“Of course it is.” Kageyama twists the spurts of water into elaborate arches before allowing the whole column to collapse, crashing back into the lake. “Because I’m not a un-special dumbass golem.”

Hinata brushes the half-hearted jab aside easily enough as he wades even further into the waterfall, the water eddying in his wake.

“You idiot, you’re scaring away the fish.”

He isn’t - the koi swim around Hinata’s ankles, more curious than afraid now that the odd new object in the pool has stopped splashing around. A startled giggle escapes the golem as they nibble experimentally at the exposed skin around his ankles.

“That tickles! Hey, aren’t you coming in too, Kageyama?”

“No.”

“Why not? The water feels really good!” Hinata shoots a clumsy squirt of water at Kageyama, which the dragon waves away irritably. Another ache shoots through his arm at the brisk movement, an insistent sting that’s becoming more and more frequent of late. He doesn’t have to look to know that the black veins are flowering up his wrists once more, lines of fleeting agony no longer content to recede beneath fair skin. Worse still, they have lengthened, spidering from his biceps to curl around his shoulders.

At least the silk folds of his more ornamental kimonos are long enough to hide the ‘roots’ from sight. Kageyama’s taken to wearing them all the time now, the lighter jinbei he usually favors no longer enough to hide the too-visible discoloration when it appears. Thankfully, Hinata’s stopped his poorly-disguised attempts to peek at his arms at every given opportunity; Kageyama had been sure to flash them in his face a few times, back when the veins only surfaced occasionally. The sight of unblemished skin had seemed to be enough to calm the golem, and the dragon would be damned before he slipped up and undid his hard work.

Another sharp twist around his ribs - Kageyama closes his eyes briefly, gritting his teeth as he tugs the ornamental sleeves further down. He may not know when the black net beneath his skin had emerged, but he’s starting to suspect he may know the cause.

“Kageyama? Oi, Kageyama! Are you ok?” Hinata’s concern is too close, an exhale of breath that fans, warm, over Kageyama’s cheek, and cerulean eyes snap open to meet golden ones right before them.

Startled, the dragon almost trips in his scramble backwards, his heart pounding faster than any tsuzumi. “What- when did you- how-?”

Hinata thoughtlessly closes the distance between the two of them again, frowning as soft hands come up to cup Kageyama’s cheeks before the dragon can pull away. “I dunno, you look...I mean, you’re grumpy and scowly all the time, yeah, but it’s different somehow.”

As if in response to Hinata’s words, a thrum of agony flares up again, cramping all the way down to Kageyama’s heels. He jerks his head out of the golem’s grasp though, ignoring how the heat feels imprinted into his skin. “I’m perfectly fine, idiot.”

“You sure?” Hinata mercifully doesn’t touch him again, but he hovers too close and Kageyama wants to...wants to...

Instead, he unceremoniously shoves Hinata hard enough to send him wind-milling into the pool again, fingers tightening into fists briefly while the golem is still underwater.

In Kyoto, as solitary as he was, even he couldn’t escape the idle chatter and gossip that the wind kept wafting back to him: the confessions of a girl to her lover, ill-advised dalliances between spirit and mortal, the anger-sorrow of infidelity in different shades. And the affairs, oh, the affairs - there had been no lack of half-formed sighs and moans that the breeze had cheekily carried to his ears.

Back then, Kageyama had paid little attention to the stories, finding them more annoying than entertaining. Perhaps he should have, he thinks as one hand unconsciously traces the outline of a vein through the kimono’s sleeve.

Had Jūbei loved Oda? There hadn’t been black lines running up his forearms and ankles. Then again, Jūbei hadn’t been a rain dragon.

Had _he_ loved Jūbei? But no black lines had marred his body back then either. And as fond as he had been of Jūbei, the samurai had never made Kageyama’s heart stutter or swell the way it does now just staring at Hinata resurfacing, wet and small and somehow breathtaking all at the same time.

As Hinata climbs out of the pool, dripping water and loudly indignant protests, Kageyama thinks that love is a more terrifying magic than he had assumed it was.

But, inexplicably, he doesn’t want to be rid of it. Somehow, Kageyama’s a little addicted to that wide smile and honest eyes, to the wildness of flame-bright hair and that unquenchable spirit. To the way he says Kageyama’s name and gets him grasshoppers and looks for him, even as he searches for his ‘wishing god’.

(Can golems even love? But Hinata is special, isn’t he?)

Kageyama is old, and strong, and powerful. He can bear the weight of storms, and wishes, and loneliness. A little pain is nothing.

So if love demands he be twined in black roots and aches in order to remain in Hinata’s company, so be it. He’s already wilfully delaying the one thing that would likely make Hinata light up with joy. He imagines that such a sight might blind even him, but as much as he wants to see it, he knows that once Hinata meets the wishing god, he will leave to go back to Suga-san, and Kageyama will be alone once more.

Is he being selfish? Yes, but it has been so many years since he’s last allowed himself this kind of indulgence. Besides, it’s Hinata’s fault anyway that Kageyama’s suddenly reluctant to return to quietness of solitude.

Maybe he’s entitled to a little bit of selfishness, just this once.

\---

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The answer slips out reflexively, Kageyama’s eyes not leaving the clouds he’s pulling together into a splendid storm overhead. Nimble fingers twist in complicated motions, not stopping until the conflagration is heavy with rain.

It’s a rote action, one Kageyama’s done hundreds of times before. Yet his arms ache unnaturally this time around, heavy and cumbersome. They’re only lifted partially - any higher, and the silken folds of the sleeves will slide down his elbows, exposing the criss-cross veins of black that lattice his skin from his shoulders down his torso. Most of his left side is ichor-dark now, the lines merging into patches that pulse agony every time the silk lining of the kimono brushes over them.

He grits his teeth, forcing his hands to steady through sheer force of will. He can handle this; he’s a dragon. He’s immortal. He just needs time - just a little longer until he has carefully imprinted the image of the golem into his mind. Then he will grant Hinata his wish and let him go. The pain will probably recede with the veins then, and isn’t that funny, that love apparently cannot coexist with happiness?

An errant breeze tickles his ear, and the dragon frowns, brow knitting together at the dismal news it bears. The stories the winds carry back are growing more troubling of late; there’s panic running wild amongst the magic kind. Bodies have been found - withered along the roads, floating on the surfaces of lakes, hanging from trees, hidden behind the back alleys of the market. Kappas, youkai, celestial beings; all of them shrunken and dead, crumbling into ash at a touch.

Were it human deaths, Kageyama would have brushed it off as mortal foolishness, or an outbreak of a disease. But these were magical beings who are impervious to such maladies. Or, _were_ impervious, he supposes.

A sharp gesture sends the storm floating towards the city, and Kageyama releases his breath slowly, air whistling through his teeth as his arms falls back to hanging at his sides.

“You sure you’re okay?” A firework of pain explodes across his shoulder under the hesitant pressure on his shoulder, and Kageyama shudders, flinching involuntarily. The hand lifts immediately, and Hinata’s face pushes itself into his field of vision, uncertain concern blatant on his features. His hands hover over Kageyama’s frame, and the dragon grimaces inwardly.

“It’s…a difficult storm,” he offers lamely. It’s not, but if it wipes that look off Hinata’s face, the small lie would be worth it. “Don’t worry about me, idiot.”

“Are you really, really sure?”

“Who’s the dragon here, you or me?”

“You. But -”

“Who’s only two weeks old?”

“Well, me, but -”

“So drop it.”

Hinata doesn’t look wholly convinced, eyes still narrowed. But he mercifully steps back and Kageyama folds himself into a sitting position on a nearby patch of grass, still mulling over the oddness of the news he’s received. He hears, rather than sees Hinata plopping down beside him, the golem sighing as he stretches out his legs before him.

Hinata doesn’t stay quiet for long. “Hey, Kageyama, can I ask you something real quick?”

Kageyama swallows an irritated sigh. “I’ve already told you - _maybe_ I’ll bring you to the wishing god. It’s not a guarantee-”

Sunlight bounces off Hinata’s hair as he shakes his head vehemently. “Not that. It’s something else.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“How do you…” Hinata pauses, eyebrows scrunching together in concentration. “I mean, how can you...ugh.”

“Spit it out already.”

“How do you tell if you’re feeling something for someone? Like ‘love’ for example?”

As if on cue, the pain pulses through Kageyama’s body, but he pays it no heed, staring wide-eyed at Hinata’s earnest face. “ _What_?”

“How do you know if you have feelings for someone? Or _how_ do you know what you’re feeling? Suga-san explained the basics of human emotions before I ra- left, and I think I’ve figured out how most of the important emotions might feel like. Like happiness - that’s when I want to smile until my face breaks in two and my heart feels like it might burst and I just want to explode because it’s just so _good_ . Excitement’s kind of the same, only my heart speeds up and I suddenly have tons of energy and want to go do something, anything because I feel like I _can_! I think I’ve got a grip on sadness too.” Kageyama looks up in surprise at that admission, but Hinata doesn’t elaborate, ploughing on. “Some are a bit harder, like frustration and anger - I guess I haven’t had a lot of practice with them. Then there’s love, I suppose.” At that, the golem tips his head to look at Kageyama. “What’s love like?”

“Why are you asking _me_?”

“Well, you’re a dragon, and like you keep reminding me, you’ve definitely been alive a lot longer than me.” Hinata’s perched on his knees in his enthusiasm now, hands braced on his thighs as he peers at Kageyama expectantly. “So, what’s it like?”

“I…” Shit, how does he feel about Hinata? Does he mention the black veins? No, that’s not a human quirk. How does he translate his selfish need into language? “Love is...when you, uh, like someone?”

“I like you. Does that mean I love you?”

Kageyama chokes on air at the prompt admission. “D-Don’t be stupid, dumbass! It’s a lot stronger that just ‘liking’.”

“Is it? How do you tell the difference?”

“Liking is...liking is when you’re alright with someone, friendly and all. Love, it’s...” It’s an accelerated heartbeat every time you’re close. It’s the effort to stretch every moment you’re together, knowing that once you grant him what he wants, he will leave. It’s the brief jolt of lightning you didn’t create, lighting you up when he touches you, warm and careless in his generosity. It’s the temptation to touch back, maybe lean in and catch his lips with yours the way you’ve heard others have done, just to see how it might feel.

“It’s like happiness,” he says finally. “The kind of happiness that comes whenever you see someone, and you want to be with them always.”

“Much stronger than ‘liking’?”

“Much, much stronger. Why are you asking anyway?”

Inexplicably, Hinata goes red, looking down at his feet. “N-no reason!”

“Hnn.” Kageyama tilts his head back, the sun fanning across his face and neck as he closes his eyes. But the expected peace doesn’t come, and Hinata’s voice echoes on loop in the chamber of his mind.

_I like you. Does that mean I love you?_

It’s a while before Hinata speaks again, tentative. “Hey, uh, Kageyama, can I...can I - ?”

Kageyama grunts, still ruminating on the suddenness of Hinata’s question. “Do whatever you want.”

As busy as his mind had been, all thoughts abruptly blank out when Hinata leans in, close enough for Kageyama to see the light freckles scattered across pale cheeks. Startled, Kageyama jerks backwards instinctively, breath coming in short bursts as his heart hammers hard enough to pound a crescendo in his ears.

“W- _wha-_?”

Hands clap themselves on both sides of Kageyama’s face, warm and firm. “Don’t move! It’s hard enough to aim already.”

“Aim?” Eyelashes flutter rapidly as panicked eyes rake over Hinata’s determined expression. “What the- what are you doing, idiot?”

“I’m trying to kiss you!”

The blurted admission stuns Kageyama, long enough for Hinata to lean in and inexpertly press his lips to his startled mouth. It’s too fast, too hard, and Hinata’s nose bumps almost painfully against his own before the golem pulls back, hands leaving Kageyama’s face to poke at his own.

“Gehhh!”

The cheeks Hinata had held still tingle, and Kageyama trembles, whether in rage or confusion or delight, he doesn’t know. “You - _you dumbass_ , who said you could _kiss_ me?!”

“You did! You said I could do it!”

“I thought you were going to ask me another dumb question!”

“Well, you thought wrong!” Hinata sticks his lower lip out, defiant. “Also, kissing isn’t as nice as I thought it would be.”

“That’s because you did it wrong!”

“Did not!”

“How would you know, you two-week-old baby?”

“Then show me how to do it right!”

Kageyama’s up and seizing Hinata’s face in his own hands before he’s even registered what he’s doing. The golem doesn’t resist though, eyes fluttering closed as Kageyama watches, suddenly breathless. His eyelashes are the same shade as his hair, long as they hide the sunset of golden irises from view. Mouth relaxed, Hinata’s lips look soft, and suddenly, it’s less about proving Hinata wrong, and more about actually wanting to kiss him.

Suga-san must have been a master craftsman, Kageyama grudgingly concedes, carefully lowering his head until dark hair brushes across Hinata’s forehead.

Kageyama had been kissed before when he had been a much younger spirit, only fifty or so odd years in existence; on the cheek, on the top of his head, once against his scales in a show of reverence. Back then, he had wandered amongst the Kyoto dwellers, happy to play at being human and god all at once. Amongst the bustle of daily life, he had seen lovers of all kinds; the contented couples, the newly-besotted, seedy lovers pressed against night-veiled walls.

It’s been a long time since those days, a long time since he became an outcast, since Jūbei found him lonely on the edges of the rice fields. For all his innate power, Kageyama had little knowledge of kindness, even less of intimacy and honest affection.

And yet, cupped in his hands, Hinata waits, turned towards him, trusting and soft.

 _I like you_.

_Does that mean I love you?_

Slowly, carefully, Kageyama turns his head until his nose slots just alongside Hinata’s, his breath caught like wind within his lungs. Then as gently as he knows how to, he brushes his lips against Hinata’s own.

They _are_ soft, and Hinata sighs in tandem with Kageyama, those warm hands coming up to scrabble for, then curve around Kageyama’s shoulders. They pull, insistent, and Kageyama bends to their silent demand all too readily, recapturing Hinata’s mouth all over again, the sticky heat there a more pleasurable distraction than the pain exploding beneath the tight grip.

It’s a while before they break apart, chests heaving as they stare at each other.  Kageyama recovers his words first.

“See? It _is_ nice.” A deep breath, to remove the slight wheeze slurring the edges of his words. “You were just doing it wrong. Idiot.”

“Yeah, well.” Hinata’s tongue darts out and over his lips. “I’ll get better at it, you’ll see.”

That’s all the warning Kageyama gets before Hinata is reaching for him again, tugging at the kimono sleeves until he falls forward into his grasp. For all that he’s named after the sun, Hinata is a storm, a hurricane beyond even the dragon’s control.

But as Hinata experimentally presses his lips to the side of Kageyama’s neck, Kageyama’s not sure he minds yielding that control, just this once.

\---

“Hey, Kageyama,” Hinata says much later. “Kissing was really nice after all.”

“...it was ok.”

“I guess that means I do love you.”

The confession is blunt and matter of fact; Kageyama is only prevented from jack-knifing upwards by Hinata’s hand draped loosely across his chest. “W-What? Why?”

He feels the shrug as Hinata shuffles a little closer, his right leg pressing a line of warmth and pain against Kageyama’s left thigh. “Isn’t kissing supposed to only be fun with the person you love?”

“I...maybe?”

“Aren’t you supposed to know? Oh! There’s the Kanayume no Ryowaki Boshi again.”

Above them, the last streak of twilight fades into the shades of night. “Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi. Get it right.”

“Will it play the drums this time around?”

A grunt. “I’ll make it play if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” Hinata pauses. Then, “Could you could draw the drum again? The glowy one with the Waki Boshi.”

It hurts, cramps running along even Kageyama’s fingers as they shake with the exertion of calling up the simple lines, luminescent in the dimming twilight.

It’s worth it though to hear Hinata laugh, wonder and delight married in the sound brighter than the stars that pound their steady rhythm through the sky. And Kageyama can’t help the answering satisfaction that curls his lips upwards, even as his eyes flutter close.

The weight of realisation is not as crushing, nor as oppressive as he thought it would be. He breathes, agony be damned when he can savor the ache of companionship while it lies pressed against his side.

In this moment, he is content. And suddenly, all Kageyama wants is to arrest time right now: lying beside Hinata, their bodies curled loosely around each other in the long grass.

But Kageyama’s magic, potent as it is, has never been able to manipulate the flow of time, much less stop it. Yet it is exactly what Hinata seeks, this ability that Kageyama yet hides.

Would Hinata still lie here beside him, if he knew who Kageyama really is?

He’s under no delusion that Hinata will stay, once he’s gotten his wish - he talks about Suga-san too often for Kageyama to hope that his goal, whatever it is, might have slipped his mind. If Kageyama could though, he would hold them both here forever, just the two of them on a mountain made less lonely by the laughter and smiles that Hinata bequeaths so generously. He would - he would -

“Hinata. I…” _love you too._ His mouth shapes the words, but the boldness that had met it to Hinata’s own has long since fled, and his voice refuses to creep out of his throat. “I…”

“Hmmm?”

“I’ll take you to the wishing god tomorrow,” he says instead, low and final. They are better words, infinitely more useful than stupid confessions that won’t anchor Hinata to him anyway. This way, at least he’s saying something Hinata wants to hear.

Beside him, Hinata stills. For a moment, the world seems to slow, waiting. But the expected outburst of excitement doesn’t come; Kageyama turns to look at Hinata, only to find him looking back, oddly pensive.

“Okay,” is all he says. “That’s...great.”

Yet somehow, it feels anything but. Something fragile has shattered, even as Hinata’s hand curls tight around Kageyama’s own. When the celestial drumming eventually slows then stops, the only sounds in the silence are the crickets singing wistfully for the dawn.

\---

Before the sunrise comes the crow.

A hoarse caw breaks, sonorous where it breaks across the horizon before first light. Hinata leaps up at the sound, excited eyes scanning the horizon.

“That’s Noya-san! I recognize his call - Noya-san! Noya-saaaaaaaaaan!”

Kageyama gets to his feet a little more slowly, foreign pain tightening joints and rendering them stiff as Hinata waves energetically at the small shape in the sky, standing on tiptoes as if it would somehow improve his visibility.

Oddly, it seems to work - the crow’s trajectory changes sharply, and it swoops towards where they’re standing. Even from a distance, it is clearly battered, shedding mangled feathers in its wake.

Then abruptly, the crow is a boy - no, a young man, tumbling to the ground and Hinata gasps. There’s a streak of blonde gleaming untarnished amongst the dark hair, but that’s the only thing bright about him. The man’s limbs, face, neck - all of it is grey-dark and brittle-thin, and Kageyama is suddenly reminded of the corpses the winds had mourned.

Then he sees the familiar web of lines that wrap, dense, around the entirety of the man’s body, and his blood goes cold.

“Hinata, hah.” There’s triumph in the coarse croak that is Noya-san’s voice. “Knew I could do it - found ya before the magic got to me -”

“Noya-san, what - are you okay?” Hinata falls to his knees before the shapeshifter. He grabs an outstretched arm, only to recoil in horror as a part of it crumbles into dust beneath his touch and Noya-san hisses between gritted teeth. “No - _your arm_ -”

“S’not your fault - it’s gone an’ accelerated.” Noya-san still manages to bare a grin at Hinata. “Hurts like a bitch, but don’t worry, I can handle it. Suga says you need to go back, let Sawamura give it another try-”

“But I can’t - I _can’t_ ! Nothing’s changed, I’m not alive yet, I can’t take the magic, I can’t do _anything_!” Hinata’s babbling now, anguished in a way Kageyama’s never seen before. Noya-san shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter - we’re fucked anyway. Might as well go down fighting.”

“I was going to ask the wishing god to - the wishing god!” Hinata spins around, seizing Kageyama and shaking him. “Kageyama, you need to call the wishing god _right now._ He needs to grant my wish, please Kageyama, _please._ ”

In response, Kageyama shrugs off Hinata’s grip, then steps backwards once, twice. The transformation burns, rips him apart in a way it’s never done before, skin flaying off to make space for the silver plates that tear through silk as they fold over vulnerable flesh. Kageyama screams, anguished even as he elongates. Everything is too heavy in a way it has never been before; the earth sinks beneath his body, unused to bearing the full weight of a dragon who has previously never touched its soil.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hears Noya-san exclaim, through the red haze of pain that buzzes hot along all his senses. “Shit, it’s got him too. Look at his scales, Hinata.”

Kageyama doesn’t have to look behind to know that the argent shade of his body is shot through with ash and coal, that the sleekness of his form is marred by the decaying edges of each scale layered over his hide. He’s crumbling in on himself, and it probably shows.

But he has no time to mourn his appearance, his gaze completely focused on the golem before him. Laboriously, he launches himself into the air, and the kindness of the winds bears his weight up as his whiskers unfurl, lank and listless.

“Kageyama?” The name floats up to him, uncertain. From this height, Hinata looks even smaller. “You’re going to call the wishing god now, right?”

“Speak your wish,” Kageyama intones instead, his command overlaid with the familiar magic rippling through the air, still imperious. He shrugs off the ache of weakness irritably; in this, he will not be hindered. While he may have taught himself to control the rain, he had been formed to grant the selfish desires of the heart first and foremost. It may have laid dormant, unused in centuries, but Kageyama feels the core of it burning, humming warm and heavy beneath the tips of his claws.

But with the magic comes the agony, white-hot and terrible. For the briefest second, he reels, blackness encroaching on his vision. He might die, he realizes, granting this wish.

But that’s alright, because it’s that idiot’s wish.

“What is it you wish for, Hinata Shouyou? What is it you most desire?”

“No way…” Hinata’s taken a step backwards, hands lax by his sides. “You’re - Kageyama, you’re the guardian dragon, how can you be…?”

“Hurry up, idiot,” Kageyama hisses, even as he drops closer to the ground, the winds beginning to scatter without the magic knitting them together. “You don’t have much time, just make your wish already!”

“Go on, Hinata,” Noya-san urges from behind the golem, “Make your wish!”

The soft lips Kageyama’s kissed just hours earlier wobble slightly, crumple in disappointment and maybe Kageyama’s just taught Hinata what betrayal feels like. Then they press themselves into a firm line, and Hinata’s hands ball into fists.

“I wish to be human!”

The wishing magic seizes the words, drawing them from off Hinata’s tongue and into the air. It spins them until they coalesce, orb-like above the golem’s head, crackling with power. Lunging forward, Kageyama seizes it between his fangs, feeling it shatter before he swallows it. It is different from Jūbei’s wish; where the samurai’s had been sorrow-red, Hinata’s tastes like sunlight and desperation, and Kageyama acknowledges it with a roar, body looping in on itself as the wish becomes a part of him.

Then he swoops towards Hinata, circling him as magic crackles along his torso. Even with the taint of pain, he feels the familiar power swelling within him, lacerating his insides as it rushes forth to drip from the edges of his chin. Primed, Kageyama’s jaw falls open -

Nothing happens.

The world judders to a halt and Kageyama freezes, his body locking up as his mind blanks, confused. His maw snaps shut before he forces it open again, mind racing with half-formed panic. Had the magic? - but no, he can still feel it, the raw magic of possibility corroding the inside of his mouth. In front of him, Hinata waits, small body braced and Kageyama frantically shoves at the magic with all his willpower. It has to leave him and suffuse Hinata to grant him his wish, and Kageyama wills the magic to start with all the strength he has.

But try as he might, the magic stays stubbornly walled up behind his skin and suddenly, Kageyama understands with terrible clarity.

“I...can’t grant your wish,” he says dumbly, the realization washing over him. “I can’t - the magic doesn’t work if you’re not... _alive._ ”

“ _What?_ ” He barely hears Noya-san’s outraged shout over the ringing in his ears as the magic writhes, incinerating Kageyama from within. He screams, body involuntarily convulsing.

And still, Hinata stares at him, unmoving.

“What about me?” Noya-san asks desperately. “I’m a magical being, yeah, but I qualify as alive, right? I wish for Hinata to be human!”

But it’s too late: another raw shriek, and the magic disperses, exploding out of Kageyama into rain that falls, hot and stinging to the ground. Without it, the dragon crumples, shrinking and contorting until he’s human-shaped once again, body shrivelled with the effort of pulling the wish together. The lines are no longer lines: Kageyama’s arms, legs, torso, half of his face is corrupted with the dark shade, pressing torment into his skin like needles piercing inwards.

They hadn’t been love after all, Kageyama thinks, half-delirious. The lines had never been -

\- even now he thinks of Hinata; _Bakageyama! What was that? Don’t you know how to use your own magic??_

Bakageyama’s dying.

Time takes on a more tenuous form, slowing, distorting, counted out in stretches of suffering - Kageyama doesn’t know if he crawls over to where Hinata is, or if the golem had come to him, but his head is resting on something he is sure is Hinata’s thighs. Is Hinata sad? He’s probably angry - what kind of wishing god is Kageyama anyway, to have such a stupid caveat on his magic?

He squints but it’s hard to see through the blurring darkness. Did Hinata call out his name? Ah, Hinata…

Pain. Rolling in like a tidal wave, absolute and final and Kageyama knows. Knows that this is it, the next pulse, when it comes, will drown him. But he hasn’t - he needs to -

Kageyama’s lived a long time, but he can count all his regrets on his hands. He adds to them now - he should have kissed Hinata longer, or told him properly that he liked him - _loved_ him. No time for that now. But he is a wishing god, and his magic is falling around them, but he’s a _damn wishing god_ -

Through the red wash of agony, Kageyama shapes a wish with his last breath, gathers it close and grants it as the world fades around him.

_Idiot-Hinata. You can’t make a wish, so here, I’ll make it for you._

_Live._

Live.

**_LIVE._ **

_\---_

_(Sorry, Hinata.)_

_\---_

Hinata runs.

The forest floor grabs at his ankles, or at least it seems to as swollen feet devour the distance between himself and the Karasuno court. They hurt - _everything_ hurts. Branches clutch at his arms, brambles score slashes across his shins and knees, stones stab against feet that had never known pain before -

A loose root snags the tip of Hinata’s shoe; he trips,  the world swings sideways and Kageyama tumbles off his back - he’ll be so _pissed -_

The ground punches the breath out of his lungs and he chokes, gasping desperately for air he didn’t use to need as his right cheek explodes into white-hot pain.

It takes precious time to stagger back upright, even more of it when he clumsily yanks Kageyama back onto his back, the body too light, too cold. For a second, Hinata reels, dizzy with fatigue and unfamiliar aches and it’s too-tight-too-hot-too-much-

Golems cannot feel pain.

But humans, humans do.

Hinata bleeds, and it _hurts_.

_Well, if you can’t keep up, dumbass…_

It had taken Hinata two days of non-stop walking to get from Sendai to the mountain. Now he’s running so it’s faster, but every breath tears at his lungs, and his chest hurts from the effort to draw air. His legs scream for rest, threatening to crumple with each step.

Hinata himself wants to scream in frustration - he knows what ‘frustration’ is now, and ‘fear’ - but there’s no air left for that.

Being alive is hard, so much harder than Hinata thought it would be. Was that why Kageyama had lied to him?

His vision blurs; Hinata blinks angrily until it clears. He’s got no hands to swipe at the tears dripping down to his chin, arms numb with securing Kageyama’s own over his shoulders. He’s heavy, he’s exhausted, he’s -

Kageyama is dead.

(“ _You’re the most special golem I’ve ever created, Shouyou.”)_

Kageyama is dead.

(“ _You will save us all.”)_

He doesn’t know how he will do it. But he’ll do it. Even if he has to force it to happen, Hinata will save everyone. Everyone. Even Bakageyama-

But Kageyama’s already dead.

(“ _You will save us all.”)_

Hinata sways, staggering backwards, one step, two. Then -

He sets his jaw, and runs.

_\---_

The neon lights of the pachinko parlors -

The quiet signs of the nighttime diners -

The hollow clinks and rumbles of shops closing their roller shutters -

The silent gates of an elementary school -

He runs by them all, blind to the eyes that turn, startled, in their direction as he staggers past. No one stops them however, and Hinata keeps running.

There’s water running down his face, his neck, his arms, soaking into his muddied clothing. Everything is too hot and too numb.

But Hinata doesn’t stop. Not when he reaches the modest apartment complex. Not when he jerks up the stairs, two at a time.

The door is already open when Hinata reaches it, Tsukishima leaning heavily on the doorframe.The hand clutching the doorknob is shrivelled the way Noya’s had been, but the  kunitsu-kami’s tone is as acerbic as ever. “Finally. I figured if anyone would be a pest and mess up my visions, you might do it.”

“Not the time, Tsukki!” A slosh of water, and Yamaguchi staggers into view, reaching out to Hinata. “Hinata, hurry - Sawamura’s just about to siphon all the magical energy, and Sugawara - ”

At his creator’s name, Hinata’s grip on Kageyama loosens and he takes a teetering step towards the ruckus coming from the living room.

“Suga-san-”

A knee gives way, and he falls into hastily outstretched arms. It’s okay. He’s back. He’s done it. He’s alive. He can finally do what he was created for.

Kageyama is dead.

Hinata’s eyes close.

“Hinata.” Ennoshita’s voice washes over him, the forest spirit’s presence calming the adrenaline that shudders through his entire body. “You did good. You’re almost there. Yamaguchi, can you still-? Can you grab Hinata’s friend?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him!” Tanaka, still loud and strong. “Hey, what - Chikara, this guy’s dead!”

“Doesn’t matter. Bring him along.”

Hinata rises and falls with every step Ennoshita takes, drifting towards a tangle of voices that stop abruptly when the land spirit stills. Hinata shakes, the rhythm of his footsteps still pounding through blood and water, skin and bones.

His eyelids are too heavy, so Hinata focuses on breathing. Breathes as something touches his arm, hanging loose out of Ennoshita’s grip. Breathes as Suga-san says, incredulous, “Hinata? Oh, Hinata, what did you-”

Breathes as Sawamura interjects, wonder in his voice. “Koushi. _Koushi._ He’s done it. Can’t you feel-?”

“Heh?” A pause, then a choked gasp. “ _Oh my god-_ ”

“Quick, grab the others - get the barrier up. We need to do this _now_.”

Hinata breathes through it all, life filling every corner of him as he’s carefully set down. The darkness behind his eyes is populated with a flurry of sounds, and carpet transfers the tempo of feet thumping across the floorboards into the back of his arms and legs.

He feels winded, tight and thin. Maybe he’s a drum, just like the Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi, skin stretched over his frame, waiting to perform.

Something touches his forehead; a hand, rough and dry. Pushes the hair out of his eyes and strokes the sweaty skin before pressing down. Sawamura’s voice rumbles, speaking words that Hinata doesn’t understand -

\---

It doesn’t awaken immediately; the life in this container is still settling into his bones, and takes a while to invoke properly. Once it does, it hovers, purposeless.

Then the first trickle of magic pours in.

The trickle becomes a stream, becomes a river, becomes an ocean that crashes, crackling and wondrous and ruined, into the container. But it revels in the unceasing influx, whipping the magic around until it is a tornado, fed to a vortex that devours all.

Flight, precognition, invisibility, shapeshifting, affinities, path-finding, element manipulation - it takes them all, winding them, thread-like, into the core of its being.

The flow is unending, unerring, and it pulls and pulls until something familiar brushes against the edge of its consciousness. The vortex pauses. Then it writhes, twists until the sound of tsuzumi drumming draws closer to the consciousness that hovers at its center.

The wishing magic, here in its rawest form, almost indistinguishable from the myriad of corrupted energy streaming into the container.

Glutted with power, the vortex tugs at the magic until it comes apart from the others, then peels the blackened layers of decay off the spiralling thread. It flakes off reluctantly, bit by bit until ahah! Here, folded in the scent of wet earth after the rain, the whisper of familiarity. It’s beautiful, but all the other magic is beautiful as well, so why -

 _Ah_.

The whirlwind gentles, perplexed at the surge of feelings that bursts forth, vibrant and bright and warm. The container is but a receptacle, made to perform a function efficiently and cleanly. It is -

_No._

More than that. The container was made to be human, to be alive.

And alive is catching grasshoppers and eating them -

Alive is staring at the sky while counting the stars -

\- is happiness and impatience, and -

alive is kageyama is

_love._

The heart of the vortex quivers, and the container shudders, turning its head until it can just about make out a crumpled form lying off to the side. A hand lifts, presses itself to where a pulse beats, steady and reassuring, anchoring the container -

_Oh._

\- and understands.

The wishing magic oscillates, vibrating in tandem with the steady rhythm that had once belonged to a dragon who granted wishes and controlled the rain, the echo of which now runs through a once-golem’s bloodstream.

A shift - the last remnants of magic sweep into the container, burying themselves into the heart of the chasm, and the wishing magic slips back into the stream, merging with the others as they swirl, wondrous and eroding within the compacted core.

For a moment, the container is the most powerful being in the world.

Then a voice speaks, and the container jerks as an unseen force wraps itself around the wild whirl of magic, binding it tightly before pushing it deep, deep down into a place even the container itself would not be able to reach.

But before the seal is complete, before the king could bury the last vestiges of magic within this tomb of flesh, the container reaches into itself and _pulls_. Something tears, and the thunderous crash of singing drums fill the air as the container stretches out towards the crumpled body -

\---

“Hinata, are you up?”

Alert eyes turn towards the door at the question, their golden gleam slightly dulled but no less lively. “Yup!”

“Have you had lunch yet?”

At Hinata’s sheepish expression, Sugawara shakes his head, extending a wrapped hamburger towards Hinata. “Please remember to eat, alright? Air isn’t going to fill your stomach.”

The reprimand is more fond than chastising though, and Hinata grins, saluting his creator. “Gotcha, Suga-san. Thanks for the food!”

Chuckling, Sugawara closes the door gently behind him, and the ex-golem resettles in his chair, feet folded cross-legged against the armrests as he carefully unwraps the snack.

“Hamburgers taste waaaaay better than grasshoppers,” he informs the figure on the bed, taking an obnoxiously big bite of the burger. “Hah, I bet you’d be pissed off if you were awake. Probably pull that grouchy face at me- ” Hinata twists his face into the biggest scowl he could muster, dropping his voice. “‘Idiot-Hinata, your tastes suck.’ Or something like that.”

Tucked under the duvet, Kageyama remains unmoving. Hinata grimaces, rubbing at his cheek. “Owww, that kind of hurts. I don’t know how you manage to pull that face so often. Or maybe I just haven’t been human long enough to get used to it. Do you think I would, eventually?”

 _Yeah, right._ Kageyama would snort, arms folded and expression unimpressed. Hinata could practically see it, and he takes another bite of hamburger.

“I think you’re in Yamaguchi-san’s clothes at the moment, since he’s the closest to your height. It’s kinda weird not seeing you in your kimonos. I guess I’ll tell you now, since you can’t argue back or anything, but you looked nice in them.” A tiny piece of hamburger steak spews out of his mouth mid-confession, plopping onto his knee. Hinata picks it up, instinctively popping it back into his mouth before freezing. “Uh, should I have done that? It won’t kill me, right?”

As expected, Kageyama doesn’t respond, doesn’t even twitch even under the avid gaze and Hinata slumps in his seat. “You’d probably yell at me for talking with my mouth full anyway.”

His appetite is gone now though. Hinata rewraps the hamburger, setting it on the small side table before flopping forwards onto the small bed. Habit has him reaching for the single thin wrist lying palm-up on the covers, fingers easily locating the steady pulse beating beneath warm skin.

Kageyama is alive, Sawamura had told him, still tells him, confident and patient each time Hinata seeks him out. Or at least, he will be. The former Karasuno King had tried explaining what Hinata had apparently done, but the details of it were lost on the ex-golem.

“Apparently, I somehow used the magic to split the life you gave me into two, and stuff half of it back into you,” he tells Kageyama. “Even Sawamura-san’s not sure how that happened; he says he and Suga-san will try to figure it out once you wake up. So wake up already, sleepyhead. It’s already been seven days. Honestly, how lame are you that it’s taking so long for your life to work again?”

 _At least I’m not as lame as you, Idiot-Hinata_. No wait, he wouldn’t say that. Would he? Hinata makes a frustrated sound, rucking up the corner of duvet where he presses his face against the cool cotton.

“Being alive is trickier than I thought it’d be,” he confides into the covers. “Now I actually have to breathe, and I get hungry and need to sleep. I passed out once, you know?  Fainting is so weird. But feelings, _wow_. I thought I knew how feelings were like, but I didn’t know how strong they actually were.”

 _I guess you wouldn’t._ No, Hinata thinks - that’s not quite accurate. Kageyama would scoff out loud, but hide that small smile that he used when he thought Hinata wasn’t looking behind his hand. It’s a nice smile. It’s Hinata’s favorite smile.

He wants to see it again.

Hinata jerks upright, clapping his hands to his cheeks. The crisp sting doesn’t fully dislodge the odd wistfulness that settles on him every now and then, but it’s a good reminder of Hinata’s internal promise to be as cheerful as possible.

Besides, Kageyama will be plenty grumpy when he gets around to waking up; it’ll definitely be up to Hinata to ensure that grouchiness goes away.

“Right! So, everyone’s human now, even you. You’re not a dragon anymore. Man, I bet you’re going to yell when you find out.” Hinata pats his chest. “Sawamura-san says it’s all in me somewhere, sealed up tight so that it can’t hurt anyone else. I don’t feel any different though - not even a stomachache or anything.”

“Oh, and Sawamura-san’s adopted you as part of the Karasuno court! Apparently, he didn’t know you before because he’s king over the Miyagi area, and you’re from Kyoto. At least, that’s what he said. But it’s all ok now - you’re one of us officially! Not that there is a real court anymore, since there’s no more magic, but it’s the spirit that counts, right?

“Sawamura-san’s been super-busy lately; apparently all the Miyagi magic people have been coming by to thank him.” The doorbell rings, and Hinata nods sagely. “That’s probably another one of them - think that’s the tenth person today. They keep bringing food stuff with them too; Suga-san keeps saying we’re going to have to get a new fridge, even at the rate Noya-san and Tanaka-san are eating.” He shifts a little in the chair. “Noya-san is fine, by the way. He swears his path-finding is still good, even without magic.”

The swell of voices outside the room increase in volume, and Hinata wrinkles his nose. “Sawamura-san might have to borrow the auditorium at Takeda-sensei’s university to make a mass announcement to everyone, because I don’t think the neighbours are too pleased with the traffic. Then, he and Suga-san are gonna start their searching. Once you’ve woken up properly, we’re all gonna to find a way to help the other perfect - prefect - the other places with their magic problem. Tsukishima-san said it’s a nationwide thing, and I guess there’s a lot of space still left in me. See, Kageyama? I told you I was special.”

A beat goes by, and Hinata sighs. “...It’s not as fun to say if you’re not gonna argue about it with me.  Did you know, Tsukishima says your name is actually ‘Tobio’? He gets irritated even more often now, since he can’t see the future properly anymore. So, life is apparently more annoying or something now that he can’t avoid the shitty stuff.”

“Tobio...would you let me call you that? You’d probably just yell at me again. It’s a nice name, but so is ‘Kageyama’.” A furtive peek over his shoulder, then Hinata clambers onto the bed, carefully arranging himself on top of the sheets until he’s lying on his side, facing Kageyama. Unmarred by frown lines and scowls, the once-dragon looks too young to have lived all the centuries he has, dark hair fanned across the pillow. He’s absolutely beautiful, and Hinata aches with the need to tell him all that, and more.

“To-bi-o. Remember what I said about feelings being stronger now that I’m human? Well, that includes love. I love you. Wake up so I can say it properly. I’ve been practicing how to for days now, because it would be lame if I said it wrongly and stuff. It’s totally going to be the first thing I say to you, just you wait! I want to kiss you too, but it feels like cheating if I do it while you’re asleep. So I’ve been practicing on carrots and teddy bears instead. Tanaka-san caught me doing it once and he laughed, but he’s been giving me tips, so I guess it’s not too bad.”

“When you’re awake, let’s go back to the mountain and look at the night sky again. Even if you can’t make the Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi play anymore, it’s okay, because I know how it sounds like now. I got Yamaguchi-san to show me how tsuzumi drumming sounds like on Nico Nico, but it’s not as good as the sky version. I mean, I guess it’s going to be hard to beat _that_ , but- ”

A small twitch of fingers, barely perceptible and Hinata stops, breath caught in his throat as he stares unblinkingly at the hand resting on the sheet between them. Then the golden gaze darts upwards, towards where a smooth forehead creases slightly, eyebrows drawing together.

Ever so slowly, cerulean eyes open until Kageyama’s looking, unfocused, at the ceiling. Hinata must have made a noise, because that fathomless gaze shifts to land on him, and suddenly all Hinata can hear are drums, loud and relentless in his ears.

Then Kageyama smiles, that private favorite-smile of his and bursting with happiness, Hinata leans in, seizing the lax hand as he opens his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of quick notes:  
> \- The waka in this fic (revolving around Kageyama) is based on the ones in the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu, which is a collection of 100 Japanese waka.
> 
> \- Akechi Mitsuhide betrayed Oda Nobunaga at Honnō-ji, ending Oda's quest of consolidating centralized power in Japan under his authority. The reasons for this betrayal have been widely speculated, but never quite confirmed.
> 
> \- While it's not mentioned in the fic itself, the mountain Kageyama and Hinata are on is Funagata-yama.
> 
> \- [Kanatsuki no Ryowaki Boshi ](http://www.crystalinks.com/japanastronomy.html) (or 'literally striking both sides stars') is one of the ways the Japanese refer to Orion's Belt, with children learning it as 'tsuzumi boshi'.
> 
> \- This was very loosely based on Pinocchio; it was originally supposed to be a slightly more faithful retelling, but...well. lD; 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading this! Kudos and feedback are, as always, very much appreciated. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr [here](http://hweiro.tumblr.com)!


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